Outcasts of Elibe
by shadowfax272
Summary: My horrible first fanfic. In the aftermath of Nergal's downfall, a demon appears, spreading chaos and destruction. Eliwood and Hector pursue him, but there is more to this situation than meets the eye...
1. Prologue

28/3/08: It seems I have a bit of explaining to do.

This is/was my first ever fanfic. I had some silly ideas, self-insertion, possible godmodding, messing with the canon timeline, and general stupidity. I don't like it for these reasons and many more (this fic contains the single _worst ever simile I have ever spawned from the depths of hell itself – _see if you can find it). However, I still like the way I wrote it (not the aforementioned Simile of Death – it still makes me shudder to this day) – it was and remains one of my most descriptive works at that time period, although I could definitely top that now. (Once again, not the simile.) :P

All of the characters I created for this story are now non-existent (scrapped!), except for Skarmandros, whose character I have drastically changed in planning for a sci-fi novel, (_Empire_, which I may or may not get onto FictionPress any time soon) and again as a different version for a completely different story. (_The Deepest Circle_, ditto) Only his general appearance, name, and for _TDC_, attire and scythe, are the same. (For _Empire_, I renamed him _Scamander_ Enoch.)

Funnily enough, I realised only after the story was finished that he was actually supposed to be _Skamandros _(I named him after a river in the _Iliad_ – IT SOUNDED COOL, OKAY?) – Which means it is Greek, not dragon. :P Once again, my unoriginality and pure n00bishness from this time period shows.

The names 'Sain' and 'Matthew' in this chapter are not referring to the FE7 characters, just others who happened to have the same names – yes, I was terribly generic back then. You can tell… (I still can't believe I called a character X.)  
I was heavily inspired (first chapter especially) by Elizabeth Haydon's _Symphony of Ages_.

I will not rewrite this story, it will remain in its original form.

At 42 pages, this is probably my longest fic ever, but, suffice to say, none of my others are finished yet. At the time of writing, _Dark Sunshine_ is just over halfway to this fic's 12,500 words, which this introduction will probably eclipse again.

The original Word document for the full fic had several footnotes to explain some little bits of character backstory that I didn't feel needed to be included in the story, as well as several explanations of _Fire Emblem_ terms and events for some who did not play the game, and some other miscellaneous stuff.

Here are a few of them. (They make me cringe too.)

From Chapter 1: _Flight to the Village_  
_Skarmandros frowned. "Where? The soldiers have infested the city, the crossroads to all the towns for _leagues - League is a unit of distance long common in Europe and Latin America, although no longer an official unit in any nation. The league expresses the distance a person, or a horse, can walk in 1 hour of time, usually about 3 miles or 5 kilometres.

_X protested. "Hey! You can't-" Skarmandros stopped him, transferring a telepathic message to him._ - Skarmandros used his psychic powers and powers of telepathy, two of the few good side effects of the curse, sparingly, but it was a good way to converse with X when they didn't want to be heard. X himself could not communicate telepathically, but Skarmandros could read his mind, and thus he could 'respond.'

From chapter 3: _Revelations and Reunions_  
_"I will make the decision of whether or not she…__knows__. Remember, X, if I had trusted __my__ instincts that day on the battlefield, you would not be alive today."_ - Skarmandros is referring to an event that had occurred several years earlier; whilst travelling, he met X on a battlefield on which the assassin had been caught in crossfire. Skarmandros went out of his way to save X's life, and they became fast friends and companions.

From chapter 5: _An Old Friend_  
Damien looked sad. "Come, stay a while longer. We can play Retaliation!" - 'Retaliation' was a silly game of Damien's own making, in which the contestants flail about wildly, slapping each other until one gives up.

And finally, miscellaneous comments I will add as I read through the fic again.  
Prologue: Wait...why is there a guillotine there? That makes no sense, plus it wouldn't have existed in this time period.  
Chapter 1: It was supposed to be but never actually implied that Skarmandros' mother was murdered - by his father. Also, the whole thing with the bar is amazingly out of character, and it just goes downhill from there. _TDC_ Skarmandros is a bit more like this. Also, why is X acting like that around Jo? ...What IS the plural of marquess?  
Chapter 2: Way too short. Ironically, in _TDC_ Skar is the demon of death. Roffles. Also, the canon timeline dies around here.  
Chapter 3: Wait- Eliwood doesn't become marquess until way after Uther's already dead in canon FE7. Also...just ignore the way Skar is constructed throughout the entire story, because it just doesn't work.  
Chapter 4: I love how I wrote Matthew. He's one of the best characters in this story, I swear. I have no idea what I did to Pent, though. He's all right, but it doesn't suit his canon. Also, note the _LotR_ references. And _Star Wars_. Erm. Also, a wyvern through the ceiling of an inn...? They'd have to pay for that. Also, I don't know what I was thinking with the ghost things. It's nice, but just plain weird. Also, I love any dialogue to do with Sirius being bullied. I hate him, so it's worth it. (bad puns, blech...I seriously couldn't think of another word to put there-AND THERE IT IS AGAIN. SIRIUSLY- I mean, er, seriously.) Prescience and capitalised tenses, it's _Symphony of Ages_ all over again!  
Chapter 5: Damien's character was one from my boyfriend, but I made him just a little more crazy. Comic relief is awesome. I imagine Sirius saying his 'smart-mouthing' line in a cheerleader voice for some reason. Also, Sirius gets beaten up again, w00t.  
Chapter 6: I hate the SkarxJo couple. WHY DID I WRITE THIS- oh yes, explanation below.  
Chapter 7: Once again, I love Matthew. My boyfriend pointed out that Jo seems to magically no longer find remorse in killing the soldiers and is actually pretty skilled, despite only having trained for about twenty minutes of her life. Wut?  
Chapter 8: I had an alternate ending for the fic at this point where the one who finds him is Jo, and Skar dies from his wounds. Of course, after this I was screwed since I didn't know how to finish.  
Chapter 9: Lucius, another character I like. I hate Renault, too. In the original Word document, the book script was in a blackletter font and the secret bit (what's that doing in a book anyway?) was highlighted in red.  
Chapter 10: BALLS- Erm...I actually like the setup between Hector and Lucius, even though I hate the godmodding. Why is Skar now an angsty emo? I still hate Renault. I want to punch him in the face. One time in FE7, I killed him off because- that's another story.  
Chapter 11: This chapter sucks.  
Epilogue: See below - this was set out to be left open for the sequel which never happened. Skar is a Gary-Sue, some of Damien's backstory is divulged for some reason, Hector is happy about it, Sirius I have no idea what happened to but he should be kicked in the balls, in fact WHAT HAPPENED TO HALF THE CHARACTERS?

I was actually going to write a sequel to this fic once, which involved Jo being captured, Skar having to become a demon again to save her, her eventually dying etc., hence why this couple was set up in the first place. Erm...that didn't work out. Also, it would probably have been even worse than this fic.

What follows is my original author's introduction to the fic, written on 21/12/05.

* * *

Hi everyone, just a few words before we begin.

This is my first fanfic, so…yeah. It has some Fire Emblem characters as well as some of my own characters.

The prologue takes place almost 5000 years before the rest of the story. Sounds weird, but you'll understand later. Also, the characters in the prologue are far different from the ones in Fire Emblem, they are from a time long past.

Whenever you see words in _italics_, it can be someone's thoughts, a flashback, or for emphasis.

Anyway, have fun, R&R, etc.

* * *

Matthew, the youngest son of the Marquess Ostia, waited patiently for his brother's return, looking out one of the many windows in the study of his father's castle. He stared out at the plains and villages, the land that, hopefully, would one day be his kingdom.

At the sound of hurried footsteps, he turned to catch the eye of his older brother, Sain, who rushed into the room clutching a tiny box. "So," Matthew inquired cheerfully, "How was Father?" Sain chuckled. "Oh, you know, he just wanted to know how his heir was going, and whether he'd been keeping an eye on his protégé," Sain replied, all too slyly.

Matthew laughed. "Seems that going to war hasn't changed him at all. What's in the box?" he inquired. Sain smirked. "A little gift from father to son. It's priceless. He said that since I'll be marquess soon, I'd better learn how to keep care of valuables!" Matthew laughed again, but his expression soon turned to awe as Sain opened the box.

Inside laid a beautiful golden amulet on a gilded chain, in the shape of a dragon's head, but inset with shining emerald eyes that had been polished to perfection. Matthew tilted his head, as would an intrigued puppy. "May I…wear it?" he asked. Sain quickly snapped the box shut, but his eyes showed a glint of conspiracy. "No." He turned heel and walked out of the room, nose in the air. Matthew frowned. _Fine, be that way, _he thought.

That night, Matthew lay uncomfortably in his bed, unable to sleep. All he could think of was that amulet. He suddenly got up and looked to the other side of the room, where Sain slept beside a chest-of-drawers on which sat the small box. It was as if it was calling to him. Matthew silently crept over to the box, and with cautious fingers pried it open.

It seemed even prettier in the moonlight, the light reflecting off its golden surface in perfect angles. _Maybe, I could put it on…just for a little while…he'd never know…_

Matthew carefully removed the amulet, undid the clasp, put it about its neck and closed the clasp. He did not notice that a strange, almost magical flame flickered across the chain, welding the clasp permanently shut, making it impossible to take off.

A strange voice whispered as if out of nowhere. _I have been expecting you. I was told you would come tonight._ Matthew looked around cautiously. "Who is there?" he cried. The voice chuckled. _I am your new…acquaintance. I will be with you a while. Get used to it._ Matthew was shocked. "I don't understand. Where are you?" The voice laughed quietly to itself. _Look about your neck._ Matthew was horrified as he saw that the eyes of the amulet now glowed with a dark light…

Sain slowly opened his eyes. A voice had called to him in his dream. _Wake up, mortal. The time has come. I am reawakened. Do your duty._

At the foot of Sain's bed now stood Matthew, with the amulet around his neck, the gift which his father had given him…

Sain leapt up, eyes blazing. "Traitor! What do you think you're doing?" Then Sain, too, saw the evil light in the amulet's eyes, and he sneered. "So, it worked. You fell for the bait." Matthew gaped. "Bait? What bait? Please, brother, tell me what is going on!" Sain smiled. "It's a long story, but I'd best tell you…

"You probably never knew it, but Father and I always hated you. He never wanted another son. So, before Father went away to war, he made a pact with me. If he returned, we would carry out our plan.

"A few nights before, he had bought an amulet from an Eastern merchant. The merchant had gladly given it to him, as the amulet was…cursed. We had plans for that amulet, Father and I. When…_if_ he returned from the war, he would call to see me as soon as he arrived, whereupon he would give me the amulet, pretending it was a gift. I would show it to you. Your curiosity would get the better of you, and you would put it on. Then…then, the fun would begin…"

Matthew stuttered. "W-what do you mean?"

Sain leered. "Ah, well, you probably haven't noticed, but that amulet has sealed itself onto you. It cannot be removed. Not until the curse is broken. Anyway, the plan is, the amulet would possess you into committing a horrendous crime, the likes of which would have you arrested for treason. And we all know that the punishment for treason is…"

_Death_, the amulet whispered. _Your father would be allowed to have you executed. Then, nothing would stop the marquess and your brother. They would be able to do anything…without a 'goody-two-shoes' like you to intervene._

Matthew turned away from his brother, who didn't notice that he had quietly drawn the dagger he always kept by his side. _You had better beat him to it. Kill him…before he kills you, _the amulet advised. _No_, Matthew thought. _He is my brother. I would never kill one of my own kin._ The amulet argued back, _And yet _he_ would. End it. End it now._ Suddenly, Matthew turned back towards his brother. His eyes, and those of the amulet, blazed with dark fire. The amulet had possessed him. And it would not be the last time.

Sain backed away. "No! This wasn't how it was supposed to happen-"

Possessed-Matthew stabbed Sain through the heart. He only recovered from his brief moment as a demoniac, realising what he had done, when Sain's body fell to the floor, bleeding incessantly. "Oh no…"

Out of the blue, as if called, several guards ran into the room. They saw the prince dead on the floor, his brother standing beside, clutching the dagger encrusted with his blood …

"L-Lord Matthew! H-how could you?"

* * *

The dungeon corridor was dark and dingy, the only source of light being small torches on the walls, giving the place an eerie feel. The soldiers dragged Matthew through the long tunnel as shadows of spiders danced on the walls, their silhouettes exaggerated, making them appear as beasts awaiting their prey.

The last words of Matthew's father as he had been brought before his throne flew about in Matthew's mind. _You are a disgrace to your house, a filthy traitor. How I would ever have thought of you as being my son is unthinkable! I am sorry, Matthew, but I cannot allow this to continue. I hereby sentence you to death…Skarmandros._

The last word had been uttered in dragon-speech: Skarmandros, meaning _murderer, traitor_. _The marquess put on a good act, considering he was in on the plot,_ the amulet said. Matthew agreed.

At last, they entered a small room, dotted with cobwebs and skulls. The only piece of furniture in the room, Matthew noted, to his horror, was a guillotine. Matthew was thrown onto the wooden frame, his neck aching from the impact, and his head was locked into place. _It can't end this way!_ he screamed in his head. _I am innocent!_ The amulet giggled strangely. _Do not worry, my friend. You will not die today. I have a plan._

Matthew frowned. _Well, I don't want to be a part of it_. The amulet laughed, inaudible to all but its wearer. _Think, boy. Do you want to die here, as a traitor and a murderer, or as a free man, a misunderstood whelp?_ Matthew almost laughed out loud (despite the situation) at the amulet's miserable attempts at trying to be helpful and insulting at the same time. _A free man, definitely,_ he thought.

_Well then,_ the amulet retorted, _you'll have to be part of my plan a little while longer…_

The guard's grip tightened on the string holding up the guillotine blade. He almost smiled as he pulled that string…

Then Matthew realised something was wrong. He looked around. Again, his dagger was in his hand, encrusted with blood. The blade had fallen, but he had not been in its path when it had. And finally, all the guards lay dead, a bloody mess on the dungeon floor…

Matthew looked around and blinked, twice, in surprise, dropping his dagger in horror. "You demonic scum! What did you do this time?!" The amulet laughed. _See? I told you would not die. Now run for your life. Run out the castle gates and do not stop until you reach a cave on a cliff. Guards will pursue you, but they will not find you there. Go!_

Matthew reached the cave panting. He was glad to be alive, but a little part of him wished that he was dead already. And that little part of him would stay that way for a long, long time…

He sat in the cave, watching the sun set. _I will have to leave this cave soon, when they have forgotten about me. I will try to start a new life. But I cannot use my real name. I must have an alias._ One word came into his head, and Matthew sighed, closing his eyes.

_Skarmandros. My name is Skarmandros._


	2. Chapter 1: Flight To the Village

Skarmandros looked out to the sea, the tide lapping his feet…if you could call them feet. They were more like claws. Dragon claws. His wings blew slightly in the sea breeze. Dragon wings. And his tail swept to and fro, impatiently. A dragon's tail. A long, black, hooded cloak shrouded all else. All except his eyes, which glowed with a dark fire…

As he waited, the demon recounted the terrible events of the last five thousand years. Five thousand years spent in a cave, waiting. Five thousand years of falling slowly under the amulet's curse. The amulet, he noted, which still hung about his neck.

About three thousand years ago it had stopped talking to him. It had consumed him completely. Its demonic spirit had become his soul. He was now a demon, a traitor, a murderer…a thing to be feared. Traits befitting his name. The name his father had given him that terrible day. He would do anything to forget that day ever happened, to erase all memory of it. But he couldn't. He would do anything to have died that day, not to have lived those five thousand terrible years of cursed immortality…but he couldn't. He was stuck, living forever with the body, the mind, the soul of something so evil he was feared by all who knew him, even himself. He was lost, confused, and helpless.

He could sense the presence of another behind him. He chuckled. "Hello, X," he hissed. The assassin smiled. "I knew I couldn't get too close without you noticing," he confessed. Skarmandros turned to face his comrade.

Like Skarmandros, X was cloaked, but it was brown, the kind street brats wear, and it only covered up to his shoulders. His long white hair was tied into a tress, and a deep scar ran all the way from his forehead to his pointed nose.

Skarmandros cleared his throat. "Welcome back. So, what did you find?" The assassin shook his head. "The soldiers are swarming the city. In a few hours, they will discover our _absence_." Skarmandros bowed his head. "Discover _my_ absence, you mean. They are not hunting you."

After a period of silence, X walked off. "We should get going."

Skarmandros frowned. "Where? The soldiers have infested the city, the crossroads to all the towns for _leagues_. We will stick out there like a dove at a crow's birthday party. They _will_ find us. We can't _go_ anywhere."

X sighed. "And you say you know the world like the back of your claw. Fool. I know another path. If we follow the coast a few leagues we will reach a small village. The simple folk live there. They wouldn't recognise you. And as for sticking out, _all_ the freaks hang out in the villages. We'll be right."

Skarmandros cringed at being called a 'freak.' "Very funny, X. Now let's get going before I change my mind about not cutting out your tongue for that remark."

X shuddered as he walked off. He had gotten used to Skarmandros' sick humour after all those years of travelling with him, but the threats still sent a shiver down his spine, knowing that he really could follow them up without a second thought.

* * *

"Milord, he's gone."

Sirius swiftly turned his horse to face the quivering soldier. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" he roared. The soldier looked up into the mercenary's steel-blue eyes, which were watching his every move.

"W-well, sir, we've searched the whole city, and the demon is not here."

Sirius leered and turned his horse, trotting off towards his associates. "This was a waste of time. Send the units back to their posts. The Fallen and I shall continue alone."

Sirius came alongside Roland, his second-in-command.

"I told you he would flee, milord," Roland asserted. "What is the point? We have chased this demon now for…for years. What makes you think we will ever catch him, let alone slay him?"

Sirius glared. "Our forefathers had a reason, and it is for this same reason that we chase him still. That demon has killed ten members of the Ostian nobility and thousands of civilians. If we do not avenge our masters, we will have failed in our duty as soldiers. That cannot happen. What is the point of quitting? We would only shame our predecessors and our followers. We MUST succeed: not only for our own sakes, but also for our forefathers…and for the people of Elibe.

"For we are the Fallen: once, we were merely soldiers of Ostia, but now, we are a band of mercenaries devoted to a cause: to protect the people, and to avenge our slain lords!"

* * *

The two outcasts arrived in the village, greeted only by hens and a small boy who couldn't stop staring at the bizarre duo. Skarmandros grunted and walked off.

"Hang on a minute!" cried X. "Where are you going?" Skarmandros kept walking, showing no sign of slowing down. "To the pub," he muttered. "I want a beer." Upon noticing the little boy, he glared angrily. "What are you looking at?"

Skarmandros entered the eerily quiet bar and took a seat. "Oi, bartender! Gimme a pint, now!" The bartender took his time, as if he was used to having demons walk into his bar and yell their lungs out at him.

Skarmandros waited impatiently. His sensitive hearing picked up an incessant scratching, and so he noticed a girl in her late teens scribbling excitedly away at a scrap of paper. Skarmandros leaned over to get a better view of the girl's writing, but she noticed him and glared. "Hey! Didn't your mother teach you manners? It's rude to look over someone's shoulder!" Skarmandros glared back. "Actually, my mother died when I was very young. I learnt everything from my father, my brother, and various tutors." The girl stopped writing and looked at him. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She smiled and held out her hand in greeting. "I'm Jo. Pleased to meet you." She waited for Skarmandros to shake her hand, but hastily withdrew it when she realised he wasn't going to.

(The bartender finally pushed Skarmandros' beer towards him; he pushed it too hard, though, and it crashed on the floor. Nobody noticed.

"He'll have to pay extra for that," the bartender muttered.)

Skarmandros tilted his head, as would a confused puppy. "Jo…is that short for something?" Jo sighed. "Josephine." Skarmandros grinned. "A lovely name for a lovely woman." Jo narrowed her eyes. "Are you getting on to me?" Skarmandros laughed. "Heavens, no. I was always taught it was polite to compliment young women on their appearance." Jo looked at him strangely. "And yet you were never taught _not_ to look over one's shoulder…" Skarmandros chuckled. Josephine muttered to herself: "Odd. That kind of etiquette is what they teach to nobles and royalty…"

The door flew open with tremendous speed and X rushed into the room. "Skar! We have to get going! A troupe of mounted soldiers is coming this way…I think it's them!" Skarmandros got up to leave. Jo also rose, blocking his path. Her papers were shoved onto the floor as she did, and Skarmandros' beer soaked into the ink. She pretended not to notice. "Where do you think you're going? You can't just leave without explaining what's going on!" She smiled sweetly, yet evilly. "Not after we've just met." From the other side of the room, X beamed at her. _She's cute. I wonder if she finds me attractive…on second thoughts, never mind._

Skarmandros was lost for words. "We, er…"

X pushed him aside. "We are being chased by bad men who want us dead," he said. Jo was unconvinced. "Oh, _really_." She rolled her eyes.

"It's true," Skarmandros said.

Jo grabbed Skarmandros' shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Well, then, I'm coming with you."

X protested. "Hey! You can't-" Skarmandros stopped him, transferring a telepathic message to him. _Let her come. She won't suspect anything. We just have to make her think the Fallen are the bad guys._

X was puzzled. _But _we're_ not the bad guys!_ he thought, knowing that Skarmandros would read his thoughts and respond.

_Exactly. But it would be easier for her to understand if we told her there actually _were_ 'good guys' and 'bad guys' in this situation. If necessary, we will go through the details when the time comes._

X sighed and followed them.

Moments later, the trio sat down in a clearing in a small forest, where they were taking a quick rest. Jo was scribbling again. (She seemed to have an unlimited number of sheets of parchment stuffed somewhere inside her coat.)

The crew had actually backtracked a little, back towards the city a bit. It was the last place the soldiers would expect them to be. Jo looked up from her paper at Skarmandros.

"Those men that were chasing you…they were Ostian, weren't they?"

Skarmandros froze.

"I saw they were wearing heavy blue riding armour. That's an Ostian trademark, no?"

Again, Skarmandros was silent.

Jo sighed. "I was just wondering if you'd done anything to offend the Marquess Ostia," she said.

Skarmandros sat right up. "There's a new marquess?"

Jo nodded. "Yeah, they finally got round to electing a new one. Most were too afraid to sign up; must be because of all those assassinations. Someone must have guts to kill ten marquesses in a row…"

Skarmandros stood up and walked off. X leapt up.

"Hoi! Where are you going?"

Skarmandros stopped. "I'm going back to Ostia. I have some business with the marquess."

X groaned. "There's no point. There will always be…another one…" His voice trailed off as he glanced towards Jo.

The demon glared at X. _Hold your tongue! You're giving us away._ "Stay here with Jo. Do not let her leave. I will return shortly."


	3. Chapter 2: Massacre at Castle Ostia

The Marquess Ostia slumped tediously on his throne. It had been awfully quiet the past hour or so, and he was getting impatient. Where were his servants, his guards, and his advisors…? He sighed, going over the possibilities in his head – only two really made sense: perhaps they had gone to a party and left him behind? No, that wasn't right. Perhaps they were plotting mutiny…

Suddenly a horrible thought came into his head. One word: _Massacre_…

The Marquess sat up with a jolt as the door flung open with a BANG!

In the doorway stood the most hideous creature he had ever laid eye on. It definitely was not human…perhaps demonic? He was glad that it wore a cloak; he certainly did not want to see any more of it than was necessary. Its eyes glowed with a dark fire – it confirmed his worst fears. Where were his priests? They would be able to cast out this monster…

The beast spoke, with a raspy voice that sounded like something from nightmares. "Marquess Uther of Ostia, I presume?" Uther trembled. Upon noticing the blood-spattered katana in the demon's claw, he began to hyperventilate…

"W-who are you? W-w-what are y-you doing in m-m-my c-castle? And how did you g-g-get past my guards?"

The creature cackled with a laugh that chilled the bones. As if in answer, it opened the gilded double doors with its tail…

The sight was so terrifying Uther was lost for words. For across the marble palace floor were strewn hundreds of dead, each one a soldier, guard, or another in service to the marquess. Each had been slaughtered differently: some with slashes to the neck, while others had been beheaded completely; some were missing limbs whilst still others had merely been stabbed through the heart. But they all shared that same look of horror on their faces; their expressions like to that of one who had just entered hell. Their limbs (those that were still attached to their bodies) were twisted into awkward positions; their blood had almost painted the floor. And now the marquess was about to be the victim of the one who had done this monstrous deed.

The beast closed the door, and Uther pulled out an axe from under the throne. "I'm warning you! I'm armed!" he yelled. The demon nodded towards the door. "So were they," it said, smiling.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Uther. Perhaps this demon was the angel of death, come for his soul. But why? He hadn't done anything wrong…

The demon smiled. It was reading his thoughts…"I was expecting you would come without a fight, milord. You are a man of honour, no?"

Uther lowered his axe, trembling.

The katana swung towards him.

He screamed in pain.

Then all went black…


	4. Chapter 3: Revelations and Reunions

Author's note: Yeah, I know that Uther already died in FE7. See, I forgot about that while I was writing this, but when I realised my mistake I still left it in because…well…I can't really replace him with anyone else because Hector's reaction to his brother's death plays a crucial part in the story.

* * *

"Lord Hector!" The soldier ran into the throne room of Castle Pherae, where Eliwood, the Marquess Pherae, sat. Beside him stood Hector, Eliwood's best friend and brother to the Marquess Ostia. "Milord! There has been an incident at the castle! You must come immediately!"

Hector bolted out of the room. The soldier turned to Eliwood. "You should accompany Lord Hector, sir. He may need some emotional support."

Lord Hector stood at the gates of the Castle Ostia, accompanied by Eliwood and the soldier. His mouth hung open in disbelief at the sight of the dead. He turned to the soldier. "What happened here?" The soldier hung his head, a grave look on his face. "There was a massacre, milord. None were left alive. I was patrolling the city at the time, sir. I could not reach the castle in time…" Hector gasped, running through the hall, towards the throne room. He hoped that his brother, at least, was alive…

The throne room door flew open, and Hector fell to his knees at the sight of his brother's mutilated corpse. His body had been slashed in several places, his hands and feet had been severed; his eyes had been cut out. It seemed that the killer had hated the marquess so much that he had decided to desecrate the body almost beyond recognition. Hector's face was smothered with tears when Eliwood caught up to him.

As the soldier entered, Hector fell silent. "Who did this?" he cried, fire in his eyes. "Who is the one I must kill?"

The soldier sighed. "It was a demon, sir. The Fallen have been hunting him for years now. He is the one behind all the assassinations."

Hector narrowed his eyes. "What is his name?"

The soldier trembled as he spoke.

"Skarmandros."

* * *

It was dark when Skarmandros returned to the clearing. Only X was there, a grin on his face. "How did it go?" he inquired.

Skarmandros smiled. "This one had backup. I had to kill all his soldiers as well. You should have seen the look on his face…"

"Where is Josephine?"

Upon noticing X's grin, Skarmandros joked, "You didn't _kill_ her, did you?"

X laughed. "Nay, she is off picking mushrooms, or something. She'll be occupied for a while."

Skarmandros' face darkened. "Then you should find her. We must leave soon. Once the soldiers discover the marquess is dead, they will search for us."

The demon walked off. He sensed something in the bushes nearby, but he dismissed it as a wolf. He did not know it was actually Jo, who had been eavesdropping and had heard his every word.

_So, this is the one behind the massacres. I knew something was up. I had better lay low a while; I dread to think what may become of me if they find out…_

She picked up her basket and skipped into X's plain view. X nodded. "Good, you're back. We must leave now."

Jo smiled secretly, this was the response she wanted. She had better ask _why_ they were leaving; it might provide a clue as to exactly how much information he was willing to give away. "Why must we leave so soon?"

X ran off. "No time to explain. Come on!"

Jo's face darkened. _So, you choose to keep secrets and commit horrible deeds behind my back. If you do not trust me, then I have no reason to trust you._

X approached Skarmandros. "The girl is asking questions. She is onto us. We must kill her, quickly."

Skarmandros frowned. "Don't be foolish, X. All young people ask questions. It is in their nature."

X glared. "I can pick up these things. She is suspicious of us." Skarmandros stopped. "I will make the decision of whether or not she…_knows_. Remember, X, if I had trusted _my_ instincts that day on the battlefield, you would not be alive today."

* * *

Sirius sat at his desk, twiddling his thumbs. "So, what you're saying is that you and I should join forces?"

Hector nodded. "Precisely. If you wish for this demon to die, then you need all the help you can get. You will find my army is one of the finest in Elibe, second only to the great Bern. Unfortunately, since the massacre my forces have been _diminished_ somewhat. With your army, I will actually _have_ some men to command."

Sirius chuckled.

"So, we have a deal, then, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded. "It will be a pleasure serving Ostia again, milord. I am glad knowing the Fallen are at last reunited with their former master."

* * *

"Amazing how quickly word spreads, isn't it?"

X agreed. The only reason they had been allowed into the inn was because the innkeeper had let them in out of fear. "You better not alert the soldiers to our presence here," Skarmandros had said, "or you'll quickly find yourself bleeding to death suspended from the church steeple."

It appeared word _had_ spread quickly: all the way over in Reglay, everyone knew who was responsible for the assassination. _Thank goodness they don't show it_, thought Skarmandros, _or Jo would have picked up instantly, and who knows where we'd be if that had happened_.

It was a small, barely furnished room, but according to the innkeeper it was the best they had. Thankfully there were enough beds, "or Jo would end up sleeping next to one of us, and she wouldn't like that!" X had pointed out.

As they unpacked, Jo felt it was time to ask…

"Why did you do it?"

Skarmandros glanced in her direction. "Do what?"

Jo glared. "Kill the marquess."

X was mortified. "How did you-"

Jo flicked her hair. "I listened in on your _interesting_ conversation back in the clearing. I heard everything. So, why did you do it?"

Skarmandros narrowed his eyes. "You would never understand. Even X doesn't understand all of it, and he's been with me for years. If I told you, it would just make you more angry."

Jo stood. "What do you mean? You've withheld _enough_ information from me, thank you! I demand the truth!"

Skarmandros closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine. If you want the truth, I'll give it to you. X, leave the room, please."

X frowned. "Why? I already know." Skarmandros looked in his direction. "I am going to _show_ her. Leave, please." X grinned. He knew what his companion meant. "I could just turn around, or close my eyes, or…" Skarmandros grunted. "Fine, stay there. Do what you want."

He turned to Jo. "Now, what I'm about to show you has only been seen by one other person _ever_, and that is X. So don't blame me if it comes as a shock to you. Even X's reaction was one of fright."

Skarmandros lifted his claws to his head and, ever so slowly, lowered his black hood.

Jo was speechless; she couldn't even scream. What she saw not only shocked her; it saddened her. For Skarmandros' face was just like the rest of his body, reptilian and demonic. Where his hair should have been were seven crests, ending as spikes behind his head. His nose had been reduced to two slits, like a snake's; his ears were built into the sides of his head, like a dragon's; but most disturbing of all were his eyes. They were just like a dragon's eyes, deep and fiery, and now that Jo saw his full face, she found that staring into his eyes too long made her feel drowsy. _Just like the eyes of a dragon_,she thought, _enchanted_.

Skarmandros spoke. "So, now you understand?" She shook her head. "Not completely." He blinked sadly. "I did not want to do this. Look into my eyes, Josephine, and do not look away, or you will not see it all." Jo looked into the demon's eyes, she felt drowsy, and she fell into a sense of half-sleep. It was like a dream, but it was more of a nightmare. The room around her appeared to fade, and a picture appeared in front of her eyes. It told a terrible story; a story of hate, betrayal, murder…the exact same story that was Skarmandros' life, five thousand years ago…

_Matthew, the youngest son of the Marquess Ostia, waited patiently for his brother's return, looking out one of the many windows in the study of his father's castle. He stared out at the plains and villages, the land that, hopefully, would one day be his kingdom._

_At the sound of hurried footsteps, he turned to catch the eye of his older brother, Sain, who rushed into the room clutching a tiny box…_


	5. Chapter 4: The Dungeon Revisited

"Where is he? Matthew! Matthew, you twit, come here!"

Sirius jolted at the sight of a young boy who appeared out of nowhere.

He was wearing a red cloak, the kind street brats wear, and it covered all but his head. His short, blonde hair hung freely, and it looked like it hadn't been brushed in months. The boy, who looked about sixteen, ran up to Hector and bowed.

"I heard you the first time, milord. I was busy. Now maybe you should take back that comment about my being a twit."

Sirius was mortified at the boy's attitude. "I beg your pardon!"

Matthew laughed at the sight of Sirius and the Fallen. "Hey, who's this tightwad? Must have a stiff upper lip to afford havin' an entourage at his beck and call!"

Sirius ground his teeth, trying to control his sword. He had a right mind to kill the boy right then and there, but that would be impolite.

Hector glared at the youngster. "Please excuse Matthew," he apologised, "he doesn't know how to control his tongue. Matthew, this is Sirius, leader of the Fallen. Sirius, this is Matthew. He used to be my brother's spy."

The two said nothing, giving each other dirty looks.

Hector looked back to Matthew. "So, what did you find?"

Matthew bowed again. "According to Lord Pent, there is a mass exodus from Reglay at this point in time. Everyone is leaving. Apparently they fear something terrible will happen; they think staying in the city will endanger their lives. The demon may be staying there – the people probably think he would try to massacre them. That's quite unlikely; if he _is_ there, he's lying low.

Sirius muttered something about a demon having some nerve to barge into the capital of Etruria.

Hector nodded. "And what action is Pent taking in response to this?"

Matthew winced. "Absolutely nothing. He says this is Ostia's problem, although he says he will contact Archsage Athos on the matter if things get worse."

The marquess grimaced. "By then, it may be too late."

He turned his horse and glanced back to his emissary. "Contact Lord Pent immediately. Tell him we will be there straight away, and we are bringing all our finest men. I suggest he do the same."

Matthew frowned. "Marquess Reglay will not like this."

Hector smiled. "And you can tell him to shove his fancy title up his backside, because Marquess Ostia is coming with mercenaries in tow!"

* * *

Skarmandros replaced his hood, and the image faded. Tears were running down Jo's face.

"_Now_ do you understand?"

Jo wiped her face. "There are still some…details I find confusing. I still don't know _why_, exactly, you killed the marquess, and the ten others before him."

Skarmandros sighed.

"If there's one thing I learned from my time in Castle Ostia, it's that the Ostians are brash and greedy. I _suffered_ under my father's reign. It was only when his plan was revealed that I realised how much.

"He had no compassion, no feelings for others whatsoever. Both he and my brother only cared about themselves, and they would do anything to get what they wanted, no matter how risky. They went so far as to try to kill me off.

"No one should have to suffer like I did. No one should be forced to live like a prisoner. All my life I had wanted to leave that castle, explore the world…

"The only way to stop something like this from ever happening again is to destroy it at its source. It's actually more of a protest than an act of genocide. If I keep killing off marquesses, they will realise that I'm doing it for a reason. They will figure out something is wrong, and change it; it would make the world a better place."

Jo's eyes widened. "I guess that is a pretty _original_ way of protesting, but it won't work. They will take it the wrong way, and they will come after you, just as they are now. I know you're trying to do something good, but right now, you haven't done much to improve the situation. You might think that Ostian rule is harsh and unjust, but the people have lived that way for millennia, and believe me, if they thought there was something wrong about it, there would have been a war against it years ago.

"Different people have different opinions. Myself, I'm Pheraen born and bred, and we have no trouble with Ostia whatsoever. You just think differently because of the events of your past. Just because one marquess was like that doesn't mean they all are. Forget about it, put your past behind you.

"You can't just get someone else to help you up out of the rut you've dug yourself into. You have to find a way out yourself. Confront your hunters and tell them the truth. Only by facing your fears will you overcome them. Then things _will_ change, and you will be free."

Skarmandros closed his eyes. He couldn't believe he'd been wrong so many years. How could he have been so stupid?

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He remembered a decision he had made a long time ago. It had cost him everything, but _why_ had he made that decision? It was because he had wanted to be free; he had wanted to make a change, and he didn't want for his father to get away with his horrible crime…

**_Think, boy. Do you want to die here, as a traitor and a murderer, or as a free man, a misunderstood whelp?_** _The young lord Matthew almost laughed out loud at the amulet's miserable attempts at trying to be helpful and insulting at the same time**. A free man, definitely,** he thought. _

_**Well then**, the amulet retorted, **you'll have to be part of my plan a little while longer…

* * *

**_

The beautiful white stallion leapt out of the woods, carrying a man dressed in long purple robes. Behind him came a chestnut mare bearing a maroon-clothed lady wielding a longbow, and clinging to _her_ shoulders was Matthew, grinning as usual.

The purple-robed man gracefully dismounted, followed by the lady. Matthew stayed on the horse, watching cautiously.

The pair approached Hector and his army. The man looked angry, whilst the woman remained calm.

The man walked right up to Hector's horse and looked up into the marquess' eyes, face twisted in disgust.

"Since when did I give you permission to bring soldiers into my land? As Marquess Reglay, I control all military activity in the province! Your men shall have to remain at the border until I have approved them."

Hector frowned. "This is an important matter, Lord Pent. We have reason to believe that the demon responsible for the assassinations in Ostia is hiding out here. Did you not say this was Ostia's problem? We should be allowed to deal with this."

Pent grew even angrier. "Did you not hear what I said? Your soldiers cannot enter my territory until I have approved a contract giving you permission to do so. Until that happens, their presence here is illegal and _will_ spark resistance from _my_ forces.

And as for the demon, we should let Archsage Athos deal with him."

Hector glared. "I will not have the future of Ostia rest in the hands of some crackpot old grey-bearded fool! This is _our_ problem; we should take care of it! Thousands more will die if the demon is not destroyed!"

Pent ground his teeth. "Do not call my master a fool! You have seen the Archsage's power firsthand; you of all people should respect his authority! Was it not for Athos, we would not have stood a chance against the Black Fang, let alone Nergal and those fire dragons!"

"That is enough, both of you!"

Pent and Hector looked to see the maroon-clothed woman step forward. "Lord Hector! Lord Pent! Stop this fighting! If what Lord Hector says is true, then we must come to a solution _immediately_. Put aside your differences for once! Honestly, the two of you give men a bad name."

Pent bowed his head. "I am sorry, Louise. You are right. We must come to a conclusion on the matter."

Matthew yelled out from atop the horse. "Um, Lord Pent? I, er…I have an idea."

Pent nodded to the thief.

"We could, um…combine forces to make a big army and _then_ we could enlist the help of the Archsage…that would make us a lot stronger, wouldn't it?"

Hector smiled. "Good idea, Matthew. Perhaps that way, we may just stand a chance against this foul creature."

* * *

X was pacing, and Jo was sitting on the bed, looking worried.

She sighed. "I wonder if Skarmandros will be all right. I'm so worried. We don't even know where he _is_. He could be…" Jo sobbed. X walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure he'll be all right. Skar can handle anything."

Suddenly, a silver-tipped arrow whizzed past and hit X in the leg. Groaning, he fell to the floor, bleeding heavily. Jo screamed and leapt up as a brute wearing blue armour walked in and put an axe to X's throat.

"There's another one in here!" he cried. "Capture her!"

A wyvern swooped down, crashing through the ceiling and sweeping Jo off her feet, its rider holding her captive with a longsword.

Jo was horrified. "You're Ostian, aren't you? What are you doing? This is madness!"

The axeman snorted. "I am Marquess Hector of Ostia. I have a great army outside that will move on command. If you try to escape, you will be slaughtered."

"I am only going to ask this once. Where is your demon friend? I know you have ties with him. If you fail to comply, you will be arrested for withholding information."

X whimpered. "We don't _know_ where…he…is…"

Hector punched him, and he cried out in pain.

"Stop it! You're hurting him!" Jo cried.

Hector snorted. "That's the idea. It's called _aggressive negotiations_."

"Now, what about you? Will you cooperate?"

"X is telling the truth. We don't know where he is. He just left somewhere without telling us where he was going. If he knew you were coming, he would have said so, OK? Now let us go. We haven't done anything wrong."

Hector laughed sarcastically. "Funny, that. You've been travelling with a killer for a while now, helping his escape, and yet you say _you haven't done anything wrong_? Ha, ha. That's very funny."

Jo yelped and pushed the wyvern rider to the ground. "You people don't get it! Skarmandros is just misunderstood. He's been scarred by the past, and it has given him a twisted opinion on the world. He's just trying to put things right, but he goes the wrong way about it. If you knew him, you'd understand-"

"WHO ARE YOU TO ARGUE WITH ME? I AM THE MARQUESS OF OSTIA! WHATEVER I SAY GOES, OK? I AM NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH SILLY EXCUSES! I understand the situation perfectly well. Now, I am giving you one last chance. Where is he?"

* * *

"That marquess fellow has a bad attitude. He doesn't deserve his position," Jo muttered, rubbing her bruised arm.

X disagreed. "He's just trying to do his job. Obviously, this whole thing has affected him pretty emotionally, and he just wants justice."

"If only people these days talked and put aside their differences. That would make things a lot better and avoid all this confusion, instead of just fighting all the time…" Jo sighed and stood. "Now, let's find a way out of this dungeon."

X shook his head. "No. We should wait until the marquess returns. Then we will explain everything."

Jo looked at her cellmate sadly. "I don't think he will listen to us. Remember what he said about Uther being his brother? I think he will want to squeeze every drop of information from us, and, besides, he 'is not going to put up with petty excuses'…"

Suddenly her eyes widened. "X, does this place look familiar to you?"

"No."

"X, Skarmandros is…_here_."

"How do you know?"

"I don't mean it like that. I just know he was here…once. I can see him even now."

"What _are_ you talking about?"

_The dungeon corridor was dark and dingy, the only source of light being small torches on the walls, giving the place an eerie feel. The soldiers dragged Matthew through the long tunnel as shadows of spiders danced on the walls, their silhouettes exaggerated, making them appear as beasts awaiting their prey…_

_Matthew looked around. In various spots along the passage were grimy cells. The lord was shocked as he saw the prisoners in the cells. They were thin and frail, and there were both men and women. Some were quite young, but most were well past adulthood. It was clear they had been there for a long time. Most were bruised, and some even had chunks of flesh ripped out of their backs, as if they had been whipped._

_They all stared out at him helplessly. Some even cried out to him, but he could not assist them. **So, my father's plan has already been put into action, **he thought. **Something must be done to stop this madness.**_

_He looked into one of the cells and noticed something odd. In the cell was a young blonde girl who looked about sixteen, and a cloaked man with a scar down his face. The girl had a bruised arm and was staring at him, bewildered, whilst the man appeared to have been arrowed in the leg and beaten. He, however, took no notice of Matthew, as if he didn't exist._

_For some strange reason, Matthew thought they looked familiar, although he had never seen them before in his life._

_The strangest thing, however, was not the girl's reaction to Matthew. It was not the fact that she was shouting **Skarmandros, Skarmandros!** as if she knew him; it was not the fact that only Matthew appeared to hear her voice._

_No, the strangest thing was that the two prisoners appeared almost transparent, like ghosts…and that the girl appeared to be seeing him in the same way._

"Didn't you see him?"

"No."

"He was right there, just as he was all those years back! He looked like a ghost, obviously, because it had happened in the past, but the strange thing is, it looks like he saw – and heard – me, too!"

"You're mad."

"It's true!"

"You didn't see him, did you?"

"You were shouting at something that wasn't there. You embarrassed me."

Jo sighed. "Is your leg better now?"

"It's not bleeding anymore, if that's what you mean."

"Are you all right?"

"At least I'm not crazy."

"Neither am I. I saw him clearly, just as I'm seeing you now, except…transparent."

"I don't believe in that superstitious mumbo-jumbo."

"And yet you believed Skarmandros' curse story."

"That's dark magic. It's different."

"Whatever."

_Matthew turned to his captors. "Who were those people back there?"_

_"Which people?"_

_"The ones in that last cell we passed. The girl with the bruised arm and the man with the injured leg."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about. That cell is empty."_

_"Go back there! I saw people in that cell!"_

_"Fine, we'll go back, but I'm telling you, there's nobody in there. You're just trying to delay your execution."_

_So the guards took Matthew back to the cell. And, sure enough, it was empty.

* * *

_

"You lost him."

"I didn't lose anything, Sirius. You just keep yer panties on. We'll get him back."

"I thought you were desperate to avenge your brother. What happened to Mister Furious back there, eh?"

"I made a mistake, okay? Those people were telling the truth. We should let them go."

"I don't think so."

Hector glared at his subordinate. "What do you mean? They're innocent. We should get the clerics to heal them up and then they can go."

"They have information. We should interrogate them first."

"They don't know where he is. Weren't you listening?"

"I meant personal information. They know things we don't, like his motives and such. Especially that girl; she's a real good looker."

The marquess slapped Sirius clean across the face. "Now is no time to discuss your personal fetishes, Sirius. This is (pardon the pun,) SERIOUS."

"Ow…" Sirius held his aching jaw. "Er, well, I still think we should question them, milord."

Hector shook his head. "Nay, Sirius. I gave them the wrong impression. We should apologise and release them. Besides, we can question the demon when we capture him."

"What are you talking about! The idea was to kill the demon, not capture him! The marquesses must be avenged!"

"It would be disgraceful to just kill a man without letting him have a say. Besides, I'm eager to find out how he got away with this for so long. After that, you can execute him properly."

As the marquess left the room, Sirius muttered to himself for a few moments before turning to the door.

"Get a troubadour in here, will ya! Mr. Big Shot just whacked me across the face!"

* * *

"I think you were right, X. Maybe I am going crazy."

X chuckled. "Oh, really? Are you seeing little rainbow bunnies now?"

"No, but I'm hearing voices in my head."

X's eyes widened. "What…kind of voices?"

"Oh, so now you're interested in what I have to say."

"I'm just wondering, because…Skarmandros and I communicate telepathically."

"You're kidding me."

"No, it's true. What's it saying?"

"Well – hang on a tick, it's saying something else now…"

_**X is a big doofus-head. Don't believe a word he says.**_

Jo laughed. "He says you're a doofus-head and that you can't be trusted."

"Hoi!"

_**What's this about X saying you're crazy?**_

"If you want to respond to him without me hearing it, just think your response. That's how I do it." X said.

"OK, I'll give it a try…"

_I saw your ghost, Skar. I really did. These soldiers were coming down the passageway dragging you…just like in the past._

_**Interesting,**_the voice said.**_It was me as Matthew, wasn't it?_**

_Yes, it was, _Jo responded._ Oh, Skarmandros, please tell me you're not dead._

The voice laughed. _**Nay, Josephine, I'm not dead. You saw the events of the past. That means you are prescient.**_

_Pre-what?_

_**Prescient. You can see the Past and Future. Do you have nightmares?**_

_I used to, Jo answered, confused, but not anymore._

_**Then you have reached the climax of your psychic ability. You have these visions rarely now, yes?**_

_I used to have lots of them as a child. They frightened me terribly._

_**Do you remember any of them?**_

_No._

_**A shame.**_

_Are you all right? I hope you're not hurt._

_**No, I'm fine, Jo. What happened? I sensed a disturbance.**_

_The marquess came and captured us. We are in his dungeon right now._

_**Hector, eh? Are you hurt in any way?**_

_Not particularly. Only a bruised arm, but X was wounded in the leg and he punched him…_

_**Hmm. The actions of nobles are hard to understand sometimes.**_

_You are not concerned?_

_**He'll survive. He's had worse.**_

_Oh, Skar, where are you? I miss you terribly and I'm so, so worried…_

_**You need not to worry. I am in a safe place, far away.**_

_Will you come to rescue us?_

_**No, if I know Hector he will show mercy. Besides, if I went anywhere near there I probably wouldn't come out alive.**_

_Please, Skar, I need to know where you are! It would make me feel so much better._

_**I cannot tell you. I merely say I am in company of an old friend.**_

_OK. I'll leave you at that._

_**You are a nice girl, Josephine.**_

_Thankyou._

_**If ever you need to contact me again, just think me a message, all right?**_

_Please don't go._

_**Sorry, Josephine, but I must. I have business to attend to.**_

_All right, but I'm getting mighty sick of this cell._

_**For the last time, I'm not going to bust you out! It would just make the marquess angry. I'm sure if you just wait it out, he'll realise his mistake and let you go.**_

_Yeah, that's what X said._

_**If all goes well, I'll see you soon, OK?**_

_Got it. By the way, why did I see that vision?_

_**You were probably just lonely.**_

_I swear I'm going to kill you for that._

_**You can try, but you won't get anywhere.**_

Jo sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did miss Skarmandros.

X grinned. "So, how was your conversation with the Easter Bunny?"

Jo punched him, square in the face.

"And don't tell me you didn't deserve that!"


	6. Chapter 5: An Old Friend

WHOMIGOSH! Has it really been that long since I've updated this! Heh, sorry…

Just so you know, I have actually finished this, I just can't be bothered putting it all up…yet.

Anyhoo, here's the next chapter: An Old Friend. Hooray for comic relief.

* * *

"Damien." 

"Hmm?"

Damien turned, his green eyes glowing with a strange light. The demon's claws were a reddish-brown, like molten rock, and the veins through which his fiery blood flowed could be seen like a spider web across his skin – they appeared, at first glance, to be rivers of lava. His tail was also reddish-brown, and it forked in two, forming strange tentacle-like 'half-tails', which he could move independently of one another. This demon had no wings, but an odd fiery aura always surrounded him, as if the creature himself was radioactive. Like Skarmandros, Damien's cloak covered most of his body, but his cloak was grey, and he seldom wore his hood, revealing his snake-like face in all its reptilian glory.

"You called?" he hissed in annoyance, after a period of silence.

Skarmandros glanced back at his old friend. "I am afraid I must leave soon, friend. My comrades are worried about me."

Damien looked sad. "Come, stay a while longer. We can play Retaliation!"

Skarmandros rolled his eyes. After years of living in solitude, Damien had gone slightly mad. It was probably also an after-effect of his heritage; Damien's father was one of the previous bearers of Skarmandros' cursed amulet. The cursed blood had been passed onto him, although with little of the ill effects Skarmandros had received.

"Sorry, old chum, but I must go. I fear fair Josephine will crack if she spends another minute holed up with crazy old X."

"Please?"

"Well…"

"An old stone construct used for drawing water!" Damien cried. (He really was crazy.)

Skarmandros walked out the door of Damien's isolated old hut. "Goodbye."

Damien yelped and leapt out the door, grabbing Skarmandros' leg and almost tripping him up.

"Nooo! Please stay! I'd be lonely…again. Moo!"

Skarmandros looked up into Damien's puppy-dog eyes. He sighed. "I'm not going to stay, but if you wish, you may come with me. But you must not hold me up."

"Yay!"

"And no more of that, or you'll drive me nuts too."

The two demons set off down the hill.

"So, where are we going? To Ostia?"

"Perhaps."

"I thought you said you weren't going there."

"I didn't say we were."

Damien looked confused. He decided to change the subject.

"So, who's this Josephine girl I keep hearing about? Is she your girlfriend?"

Skarmandros flinched. "No! What made you think that?"

"Are you sure?"

"Not saying."

"Heh. I know, Skarmandros. You can pretend, but I know."

"Do I have to spell it out? I-love-no-one. I-never-have-and-never-will. OK? Now lay off!"

"You just say that 'cos you want her."

"Don't make me kill you."

Damien was frustrated now. He decided to change the subject…again.

"So, where are we going?"

* * *

"Sorry about that." 

Hector opened the cell door, much to Sirius' annoyance.

"There was a bit of a misunderstanding. You're free to go."

"That's easy for you to say," Jo muttered.

"Tsk. If I were you, I wouldn't give the marquess attitude, girl." Sirius smart-mouthed.

"So, that's it? You barge into our room, knock us around, give us both bruises…and now you're letting us go?"

"I told you I was sorry. If you wish, the clerics will heal you up."

Jo narrowed her eyes. "No." She left.

"Fine, suit yourself. No doubt your friend would want the assistance." Sirius sniggered, and X booted him in the leg. "Hoi!"

X grinned. "And don't tell me you didn't deserve that." He sauntered off, and Sirius was left gaping. "He can't do that! He just assaulted me! Guards! Guards!"

Hector laughed. "Leave him, Sirius. Don't tell me you can't take a good joke."

The marquess walked off, cape flapping away.

Sirius muttered, nursing his leg.

"I'm getting too many injuries today."

Jo smiled and sniffed the air. "It's good to be outside again, don't you think? Should we tell Skarmandros of our release?"

X wandered off. "If you wish."

Jo closed her eyes and concentrated.

_Skarmandros, can you hear me?_

There was silence.

_Skarmandros?_

**_I am here, Josephine. Is there trouble?_**

_No. I'm fine. We were just released._

**_You see? I told you._**

_Where are you?_

**_Funnily enough, I'm coming your way. I was…worried._**

_Fascinating._

**_And I'm bringing a friend._**

_He doesn't happen to be another assassin, does he? And I hope he's not crazy._

**_Ah, no, not an assassin. But…you may be a little disappointed._**

_You mean he is crazy?_

**_Oh yes._**

_You're kidding._

**_Meet me in that clearing. You know the one._**

_Skar, I really must-_

**_Sorry, Jo, gotta go. The aforementioned friend is getting on my nerves._**

Jo sighed. Things were going to be even worse than she thought.

X grinned. "So, what's up?"

Jo gasped. "You…you disrespectful rat! You were listening in on us, weren't you?"

"Couldn't resist. It sounded like you were having so much _fun_."

"Don't make me hit you again, or you'll be crying out for those Ostian clerics."

"Make me."

THWACK!


	7. Chapter 6: The Beginning of the End

YES! My first review. Thanks SO much.

This is a long chapter, so be warned.

* * *

"Damn and blast it! Those confounded wretches!"

Damien turned to his cursing comrade. "What seems to be the problem?" he inquired innocently.

"_They_ are the problem, fool! Look!"

Damien looked about. "Nope. I see nothing."

Skarmandros grabbed Damien's head and pushed him to the ground. "Over the hill!"

Damien got a holding and peered over the grassy knoll. He swore.

Thousands of men equipped with battle-gear, standing in regiment, lay over the horizon. The group at the front was larger, and wore heavy blue riding armour, and were all equipped with heavy weapons. This was the infamous army of Ostia. At the very front of this group were about seven mounted men, all wearing faded blue armour painted over with anti-hex runes and the odd splash of black. They wore bows slung over their shoulders; some carried swords as well, while a few others had axes instead. These were the Fallen, once again in service to the Marquess Ostia.

Behind Ostia's group was a set of lightly clad men in yellow. They all wore fancy robes and most had swords or lances, but there were also several archers. Some were on foot, but the majority straddled beautiful war-bred horses. At the front of this yellow group was a maroon-clad woman with a longbow across her shoulder. This was Louise, wife to Pent, the Marquess Reglay, and the group behind her were none other than the nobles' army of Etruria.

Damien gaped.

"We are _so_ dead."

"You're telling me."

Damien rolled over to face his comrade. "So, what do we do now?"

"We get back to that clearing near Ostia. That's where we'll meet up with Josephine and X. We'll discuss things there."

Skarmandros flexed his wings and flew away so fast and low his wing tips almost touched the ground.

Damien sighed.

"One day I gotta get me some of those."

The fiery aura around him ignited, sending him spinning off in Skarmandros' direction in a fiery meteor.

Had any of the soldiers over the hill the range to have seen them, the only trace of their presence left behind was a small trail of singed grass where Damien's fireball had skimmed the plain.

* * *

Archsage Athos stroked his long grey beard. He was troubled by the news that his student Pent and Marquess Hector had brought, but his old, wrinkled face showed no sign of it.

"So…you say that he was supposed to be in Reglay…"

"We captured his _friends_ and everything, Greybeard, but he disappeared. Not even _they_ know where he went."

Pent shifted in his seat. "Will you be able to scry for him, Archsage?"

Athos blinked slowly. "Unlikely, unless he has just committed a particularly evil act, or if there is more than one demon in the area. In such cases, the negative energy can be traced quite easily. Otherwise…he is virtually invisible."

Pent raised an eyebrow. "_More_ than one demon? Is such a thing possible?"

Athos smiled sadly. "Possibly. You never know how many more demons are still out there."

Hector leant back in the mahogany chair. "Can you at least try, Greybeard?"

Athos wrung his hands. "If you wish, you may stay here tonight, and I will have the results by tomorrow morning. But it's doubtful I'll find any trace of him."

Hector winced. "Tomorrow? Any earlier?"

"These things take time, Hector. Now go get some rest."

Pent stood and bowed. "I apologise, Archsage, but we cannot stay in Nabata. If you wish to see us, we will be with our soldiers in Reglay."

Athos chuckled. "Very well then. Good night, Marquesses Pent and Hector."

As the marquesses left the room, a burly axe-wielder in desert garb appeared at the door. He walked in, leaving a trail of sand behind him.

Athos smiled as the man entered. "Ah, Hawkeye. You're just in time."

"You have something for me, sir?"

"Yes. Get the horses ready. We will leave for Reglay tomorrow morning. No matter what the results of tonight's scrying are, I must accompany Pent and his men tomorrow. It is important. I will also need my magic tomes; Forblaze and Aureola."

Hawkeye nodded. "Anything else, sir?"

"Bring Armads. And Durandal."

* * *

The sun rose, lighting the sky with a spectrum of reds and yellows. The soldiers emerged from their tents and donned their battle-gear, ready for a new day.

Pent was already up, eagerly watching the horizon. Hector approached him, clapping him on the back.

"What's up?"

Pent smiled. "Athos never breaks his promises."

"You're waiting for the old man again?"

"Look."

Two nomadic horses appeared on the horizon. One was barebacked and yellow, with little adornment save for a small headdress. This one carried a burly axe-wielder smothered in war paint. This was Hawkeye, defender of the Nabata desert.

He escorted an old grey stallion, carrying an even older, greyer man; Archsage Athos, last surviving of the eight 'founders' of Elibe. Both the horse and its rider were adorned in old blue robes with ancient writings sewn into the hem.

The soldiers were pointing at the figures as they dashed down the hill. Pent chuckled to himself as Athos and Hawkeye approached.

"So, you have the results?"

Athos creased his brow. "I have good news and bad news."

"Good news, I know where your demon is. He's in a forest clearing near Ostia."

Hector nodded. "And the bad news?"

"Guess how I managed to find him."

"What?"

Hawkeye grinned. "You wouldn't believe him if he told you."

"He's with another demon." Athos said.

"You're _joking_, right?" Hector shook Pent. "Please tell me he's joking!"

Athos shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Hector."

Pent sighed. "Tell me of this second demon."

"He is tied to fire. A fiery aura surrounds him, and everything about him is, well, fire. His skin looks like molten rock, and his veins are like rivers of lava. I know little of his abilities, but from what I see, he's most likely insane."

Hector froze.

It was Pent who finally punctured the silence.

"A clearing in Ostia, you say?"

"Yes."

"_Where_ in Ostia?"

"I can take you there."

"Excellent."

Hector rallied up the soldiers.

"Forth! We ride to Ostia!"

* * *

It was quiet in the woods near Ostia. Very quiet.

A rabbit sat still, cleaning its ears and nibbling on berries.

Suddenly, its ears pricked up. It had heard something.

_Tramp-tramp-tramp._

It ran away.

A hawk was flying by in the area. It also had heard the loud sound. And it was coming closer.

_Tramp-tramp-tramp._

It screeched as a horde of soldiers marched over the hill, fully equipped, towards a clearing. Just as it did, the army stopped, right by the edge of the forest.

Hector rode to the front of the pack.

"This is Marquess Hector of Ostia! I am here with the combined military forces of both Ostia and Etruria! Surrender and come out with your hands above your heads, or we _will_ attack!"

Suddenly a pillar of flame shot up, reaching up into the sky. It engulfed the entire forest and swallowed it up, and yet not a hair on the army's heads was harmed.

A few seconds later, the smoke cleared, and two demons, a teenage girl and an assassin stood in the smoking crater, completely unharmed.

Skarmandros smiled.

"I don't think so."

* * *

"Why did you do that?"

Hector grabbed Athos and pushed him against the wall.

"Why did you do that?" he repeated.

Athos merely smiled. "Do what?"

"You let them off. You said that we wouldn't harm them today. You said…that we would have a full-scale battle,_ tomorrow_."

"What about it?"

"By then they could be far away. And if they _do_ come…they'll be prepared! We could have attacked them right there and they wouldn't have stood a chance!"

"Relax, Hector. I did that to buy _us_ time. Some preparations of our own must be made before we fight them."

"What do you mean?"

Athos pulled a large object shrouded in satin cloth out of his cloak. "No doubt you would remember this," he said simply.

Athos removed the cloth to reveal a beautiful golden axe with a curved edge that made it look even more elegant.

Hector was astounded. "Armads," he whispered. As if in answer, the legendary axe shone brightly.

The marquess slowly took the weapon, cradling it in his hands as if consoling a crying child. "I haven't seen you since the Dragon's Gate," he muttered.

Athos cleared his throat, and Hector's attention snapped back to the old Archsage.

"I am not _just_ giving this to you for the sake of a great battle," he said, "but because demons cannot be killed using conventional weaponry. Only legendary weapons or those blessed by a bishop can kill a demon. If a demon is 'killed' by any other weapon, it will shortly return to the world _unscathed_."

Hector nodded.

"I will also issue Eliwood with Durandal, as before. And I myself shall carry Aureola, as well as Forblaze, so I think we'll all have a fair chance of taking the demons out." Athos continued.

"But what of the Fallen?" Hector asked. "What demon-slaying weapons do _they_ have?"

"Ah, they have anti-hex weapons, written over with magical runes and the like."

"So, is that everything then, Greybeard?"

Athos chuckled, as he always did, at Hector's ironic nickname for him. "Pretty much, unless you want to have a detailed strategy for tomorrow's battle."

"Nah, that'll be it. I don't like thinking."

* * *

Small sparks flew as Skarmandros struck a rock with the blade of his scythe. Jo rolled her eyes.

"Is it sharp enough _yet_? You've been doing that for the past hour."

Skarmandros grinned, pinning a squirrel to the ground with the point of the blade and smiting it. "A blade can never be too sharp," he advised.

The forest had magically grown back from the blast. None of them knew how, but X had said something about 'cursed magic', and he was eager to leave the area.

Now, he flipped his twin knives, performing all sorts of strange stunts.

Jo turned to Damien. "And what weapons do you have?" she asked. The fire demon whipped an outlandish katana out of his cloak. The blade was blood red and shimmered with a crimson aura.

"Nice," Jo approved.

Damien grinned as he sheathed the blade. "What about you?"

Jo blushed. "I'm not one for fighting."

Skarmandros stood. "Then you're going to have to learn to."

"I don't like it when people get hurt."

"Too bad. There is going to be an enormous battle tomorrow, and we all have to fight. Besides, you _really_ need to learn how to defend yourself."

X cringed. "She has a good right hook, though."

Jo nodded in the assassin's direction. "You see? I can handle it."

"No, you can't," Skarmandros interjected. "The enemy will have _legendary weapons_, for crying-out-loud! If you don't even know how to fight, you won't last five seconds out there."

Jo grinned. "And since when did you care about me so much?"

Skarmandros smirked under his hood. "I'd rather not say."

Damien sniggered.

"Shut up, you. We'll need some room, so you two can buzz off. Besides, we'll be needing a night watch."

X and Damien walked off, blades in hand. Damien muttered something under his breath.

As the two were out of earshot, Skarmandros turned to his new sparring partner. "Right then. Let's begin, shall we?"

He tossed a machete to Jo.

"I'm not sure about this, Skar…"

"It's all right. I won't hurt you, I promise."

* * *

Jo slumped to the ground, exhausted. Skarmandros sheathed his sword. He chuckled. "Well, I think that's enough training for one day."

"Skar…"

"Hmm?"

"About tomorrow…" Jo slowly opened her eyes, sighing. "If we don't make it…there is something I have to tell you."

"Yes, Josephine?"

"Skar…I love you."

"Really?" There was a tone of happiness in Skarmandros' voice.

"Yes."

The demon sat down on the ground next to Jo. "Well then, in that case…I guess I love you, too."

Jo smiled as Skarmandros placed his claw on her shoulder. "I'll tell you what. If we survive tomorrow's battle…I'll make you immortal, eh? Then…we can be together forever."

Jo broke out into a grin. "That would be wonderful."

She leapt up suddenly. "I suppose I'll go get X and Damien, eh? Don't worry, I won't tell them _anything_." She ran off.

As Jo disappeared from sight, Skarmandros sighed.

He knew he would not be able to keep his promise.

_Even if I survive tomorrow…I will have to die someday. It is the only way the curse can be broken…_

_And when that happens…I can't imagine what poor Josephine would do._

He took his amulet in hand and studied it thoughtfully. He closed his eyes and muttered a swear word as he stood.

_Why is life so hard?_


	8. Chapter 7: The Battle of EtruriaOstia

Wait, what? The horizontal line functions don't seem to work right now...so I'll have to use dashes.

---

The red sun rose over the horizon, the first rays of light piercing the sky and shattering the darkness. Everything the light touched took on new life as another day began.

But, unlike most days, the heralding of the sunrise was not a happy occasion.

In the earliest minutes of the day, the soldiers of the Etruria-Ostia army were already donning their armour, sharpening their weapons and mounting their steeds. For them, and for everyone else about to participate in the upcoming blood feud, the new day seemed to be calling them to their dooms. Not one of the soldiers, the lords, not even the demons themselves were sure they would survive. For them all, they thought, the end was coming.

The battle-horns sounded. The soldiers reluctantly took their places in line. Even the Fallen had a grim look on their faces. Pent, Louise, Hawkeye and Archsage Athos rode to the front of the regiment.

Hector entered the small blue tent.

Matthew was huddled up in the corner, a terrified look on his face.

"Matthew! What are you doing in here?"

"You don't really expect me to fight, milord? I am only good for stealth missions, and not very strong at all!"

"You should at _least_ be outside, tending to procedures."

The young rogue winced and stood, half-heartedly. "What do you require of me, milord?"

The marquess smiled. "Go and tend to things at the castle. I will put you in charge of the kingdom."

Matthew froze.

Hector laughed. "In the likely event of my…elimination, I expect you to tend to all my duties, as the Steward of Ostia. Besides, you should do that anyway, at least until…if…I return."

Matthew bowed stiffly. "All right then, milord. I will do as you ask."

Hector smiled and patted his spy on the back. "Good lad."

"By the way, milord, you don't happen to like that Sirius fellow, do you?"

"No! He's a pain in the rear end. Why do you ask?"

"I pilfered some gold from his room. There's enough to buy a good portion of Lord Pent's estates."

Hector grinned. "What do you plan to spend it on?"

"A…good portion of…Lord Pent's estates?"

"Good lad."

---

"It is time. The final battle shall now be fought. Blood will be shed. Lives will be lost. In the name of freedom, today, we fight."

X nodded his approval. "Well said, Damien."

The fire demon drew his crimson katana. The assassin drew his twin knives. Skarmandros wielded his scythe in the right hand, and his katana in the left. Jo clutched her machete.

"Today, two demons will fight side-by-side," Skarmandros noted. "Let us hope it will be enough."

X turned to Jo. "Are you ready?"

Jo nodded.

The group lined up at the bottom of the hill. They looked up at the enormous army standing at the hilltop. "I hope I don't live to regret this," X muttered. "Be careful what you wish for," Damien replied.

---

"Dark Inferno!"

A large blast shot up from the ground, incinerating quite a few soldiers. It was the same blast that had engulfed the forest a few days earlier.

Damien chuckled. "Oh, come on, Skar. I can do much better than that."

"Go ahead. Make my day."

"Oblivion!"

Suddenly, about a quarter of the plain ceased to exist. And it hadn't just disappeared – it now formed an enormous black void.

"You know, Damien, I wasn't even trying. If I had showed you the best I could do, everything within a fifty-league radius would have been engulfed in flame, and nothing would ever grow there again."

"I wasn't trying, either," Damien replied.

X slashed yet another soldier. "How many have you killed?" he asked Jo.

Jo swung her machete into another soldier and wiped sweat from her brow. "Thirteen."

X laughed. "Is that all? I have twenty-eight – twenty-nine, now," he added as another soldier fell lifelessly to the ground.

"Show-off."


	9. Chapter 8: Prisoner of War

The battle was over. Skarmandros opened his eyes with a groan. He was wounded and could hardly see. From what he could see, however, it appeared he had been sent flying by a blast and had landed far away from everyone else, most likely on the other side of a hill.

He winced as he realised the seriousness of the situation. He was so weak he could barely see. Everything was a meagre haze, and his psychic senses appeared to have been disabled somehow. He was bleeding profusely – the black, caustic substance flowing freely from his chest put him in considerable pain.

Suddenly, a figure appeared from over the hill and began to walk towards him. Skarmandros could not see who it was…everything was too blurry…

He only hoped it was an ally…

The figure approached. At the sight of Skarmandros' body, it laughed and kicked him.

The demon recognised the voice. It was Marquess Hector.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like you've finally been defeated," he mocked.

Sirius appeared presently, still riding his horse. Hector turned to Sirius.

"Take our friend to the castle. I will make arrangements once we arrive."

Meanwhile, Jo, X and Damien stood amongst the soldiers' corpses. Not all of them had been killed. Most had fled, and Pent, Louise, Hawkeye and Athos were nowhere to be seen.

Damien suddenly spoke. "Wait a minute! Where's Skar?"

They ran over the hill, too late, it seemed. The demon was already being carried away.

Jo turned to X. "Shouldn't we go and help him?"

The assassin shook his head.

"Not even we can save him now."


	10. Chapter 9: The Amulet of Behemoth

Hector sat on his throne, looking down at his new prisoner. He grinned.

"Normally I would take this time to ask you a couple of questions…but you're in no condition to say anything, are you?"

Skarmandros merely groaned in agony. The marquess had allowed his troubadours to heal up his wounds just enough to keep him alive, but he was still wounded terribly.

Hector laughed. "Good, good. Now then, we'd better get on with proceedings, hmm?"

Skarmandros winced. Hector was even more ecstatic at this, and an enormous grin broke out on his face. He was obviously enjoying this.

"You're quite lucky, you know," he started, "I have been given permission to execute you myself. You will have the honour of being slain by Armads."

"Take him away."

* * *

Lucius muttered in frustration. Something just didn't seem right about this.

As an Elimine monk, Lucius was given the task of keeping eye on Hector's demonic detainee. Not directly, of course, but he was the one that had to deal with all the paperwork, ironically, and so he had to scan through the library's records and compile a file for every prisoner that had ever been kept in the castle. He flipped through piles of sorted parchment, annoyed.

_Renault should be the one doing this, _he thought,_ he's the bishop around here. Why am I the one always stuck with the paperwork? And they wonder why I've been absent from Mass recently._

He was especially frustrated today. Something just didn't fit, but what? Normally it would be easy to find information on a demon, especially in this case, but there were several vital pieces of information that just weren't there. He had looked everywhere, even asked contacts in other provinces, but nothing. And his 'assistant', Serra, the cleric, wasn't any help, either. During the few hours she was actually with Lucius in the library, she would just flip through books on subjects that young members of the clergy weren't even authorised to _think_ about. _If Renault was here,_ Lucius thought, _he would be off the wall at her. She just spends all day with that mage fellow. And he doesn't even like her!_

The pink-haired cleric in question was sitting right next to Lucius, humming to herself and absent-mindedly looking through a strange-looking tome.

"I shouldn't be asking this," Lucius said, "but whatever are you reading?"

"_The Complete History of Curses and Possessed Objects_," Serra mumbled. Lucius rolled his eyes.

"No, really!" Serra cried. "It's quite interesting! Look at this!"

**"The amulet of Behemoth is an amulet possessed by the spirit of a demon, which, when worn, grants the bearer eternal life. This is so as to sustain the host for the period in which the amulet corrupts and ultimately possesses the host, turning them into a demon themselves. This period normally lasts a few thousand years. During this period, the amulet can temporarily possess the host at any time, thereby holding the host in thrall and controlling them at will. The host has no control over such actions and is normally unconscious whilst in thrall, not knowing what has happened until afterwards.**

**After the corruption period, the host still contains the personality of the demon spirit, and is likely to be hostile at certain periods, but generally regains control of his or her body. Throughout the period of the curse the host is in extreme physical and mental agony, and thus is normally angry or can go insane.**

**The Curse of the Behemoth, as this possession is called, cannot be broken until the time of the host's death, at which the amulet disconnects itself from the host's soul and waits for a new host. However, it may be possible to purge the demon spirit from the host by an experienced acolyte, but this has never been proven, and if it fails, the consequences would be much more deadly for both the host and acolyte in question."**

"Fascinating." Lucius approved. "Disgusting and forbidden, but fascinating. But I don't see how this is going to help us."

Serra tossed her pink hair. "I am researching the amulet the demon wears around his neck, and whether that has to do with anything. Besides, there's more to the article." She said, pointing to some red text.

**"Warning: The following information was concealed from the public. It is top secret and should be used with caution."**

"…Well?" Serra asked. "What do you think, Lucius? Should I read it to you?"

Lucius paused. "Yes. I would most like to hear…what happens next."

**"It was widely believed that the famous 'missing lord,' Matthew of Ostia, had murdered his brother Sain in an act of cold blood. But this was not the case. It was revealed a few days after the incident that the Marquess Ostia, father to both Matthew and Sain, had plotted the death of Matthew and tricked him into putting on the Amulet of Behemoth. However, the results were not what the marquess had hoped. After Matthew's escape from the Castle Ostia, the marquess revealed this information. The staff present at the revelation were appalled at the marquess' hate for his younger son, especially that he had labelled him in dragon-speech – 'Skarmandros'. That night, the marquess hung himself in the tower.**

**It is unknown what happened to Matthew, though. It is widely believed (by the public, who knew nothing of the scheme) that the young lord went into hiding and died. But we all know that the curse would not have allowed him to do that. Whatever happened, we are sure that Matthew's demon form will appear someday, and wreak havoc as did the Behemoth's previous hosts…"**

Lucius was shocked. He simply stared down at his papers, incoherent thoughts rushing feverishly through his head.

"Lucius? Are you all right?"

The monk ran a hand through his long blonde hair.

"Lucius? What's the matter?"

"Serra…do you know what this means?"

The cleric shook her head.

Lucius stood up in a hurry, pushing his chair onto the floor along with several papers. Serra stood, also. "Lucius?"

Lucius walked hurriedly out of the library.

"Lucius! Where are you going?"

The monk turned for a moment.

"I must stop the execution. They are making a terrible mistake…"

Lucius turned and fled the room.


	11. Chapter 10: Sealed Fate

Arrgh, curse you document uploader! It will only allow me to upload documents in Notepad form...so formatting and some punctuation goes missing and I have to redo it. I might miss a few letters...

* * *

Hector swung Armads about like a baseball bat. He was incredibly happy, like a five-year-old at Christmas."Do you know…how long I have been waiting for this day?" 

Skarmandros did not answer."I myself do not remember the exact length of time…but either way, it has been too long."  
The marquess glared down at the demon. "Once this is over, I will have nothing more to worry about. You are the one thing that stands in my way. And putting an end to your miserable life will just give me an even greater pleasure. On top of that…I will be avenging my brother, and the ten others that came before him. Kind of gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside."  
He grinned crazily. "And now, it ends. Any last words?"

Skarmandros sneered. "Why would I waste my breath on _you_?"

Hector smirked. "Amusing."  
He raised Armads.  
"Simply…amusing."

* * *

Lucius ran feverishly through the corridor. 

_There is no time to waste…I must be quick!_  
His soft footsteps resonated through the dungeon hall.  
_What a horrible place…but I must not be distracted. They must be warned!_  
The small wooden door at the end of the passage grew ever larger in Lucius' eyes.  
_I only hope I am not too late…_

* * *

At that very moment, the door of the execution chamber burst open, and a small, blue-robed acolyte with long blonde hair rushed into the room. 

Hector paused and slowly lowered his axe. He turned to Lucius. The young monk wiped his sweaty brow, panting. Presently, Skarmandros looked up at Lucius, surprised at this chain of events.

Hector growled. "Lucius! Can't you see I'm a bit busy here?"  
"I'm sorry, milord, but-"  
The marquess grimaced. "This had better be important."

Lucius gulped. He knew it would be hard to break the news to the temperamental marquess.  
"I'm afraid you cannot execute the demon, milord."

Hector sighed. "And why not"  
The monk fiddled with the collar of his robe. "You see, Lord Hector…you cannot kill him because…because..."  
"Because WHAT?"  
"Because he is the Marquess of Ostia."

Hector blazed. "That's preposterous!"  
"Call it what you will, milord, but it is the truth."  
"Do you have any proof of this…claim?"  
Lucius paused. "Well, I…"

"LUCIUS!"  
A pink-haired cleric rushed into the room holding a book of questionable content.  
Hector groaned. "Oh, no. Not Serra too."

Serra hugged Lucius, the young monk wincing in reply.  
"Oh, Lucius, I was worried about where you'd gone to. I thought you might need some help."  
Lucius snatched the book from Serra's hand and, reluctantly, flipped through the heretical tome, cringing occasionally, until he came to the page Serra had showed him.

He handed the open book to Hector. "Read it from the red print, milord."  
Hector scanned the page feverishly. "What does this have to do with anything?"  
"The last sentence."

_Whatever happened, we are sure that Matthew's demon form will appear someday, and wreak havoc as did the Behemoth's previous hosts…_

"What about it?""I'm not entirely sure of it, milord, but I'll have to double-check, just to make sure."  
"What do you mean?" Hector scratched his head. "I'm confused."  
Lucius smiled. "Then perhaps this will clear things up. But if I'm wrong, you can continue with proceedings."  
Lucius walked up to the restrained demon. "As unorthodox as this is..."  
The monk knelt down so he was eye-level with the captive.

"What…is your name?"  
Skarmandros was confused. "…What?"  
"What is your name?"  
"You know my name. I am Skarmandros."  
Lucius smiled slightly at the familiar term. "Not that. What is your real name? The one you were given at birth."  
Skarmandros closed his eyes. "I never forgot it after all these years. It was the one thing that kept me sane…knowing that I used to be somebody."  
"…Well?"  
The demon sighed. "My name…is Matthew."  
Hector's eyes widened. Serra gasped silently. But Lucius just grinned.

"And your brother's name?"  
"Why the hell would you want to know that?"  
"I just do."  
"His name was Sain."  
Lucius nodded. "And your father?"  
"I don't know _his_ name. What, you think I'm some kind of know-it-all? I was sixteen, damn it! You think I cared squat what my father's name was?"  
Lucius sighed. He knew he was getting into personal territory now. "Do you at least know _who_ he was?"  
"Of course I do! He was the damn Marquess Ostia! The worst of them all!"

Hector snorted. "So what? He's the son of a marquess that's been dead nearly five millennia and who concocted the biggest conspiracy in history. SO WHAT. Proves nothing."  
Lucius grinned. "And this…is where pure logic comes into things."  
Hector rolled his eyes. "I'm not one for thinking, so I probably won't understand a word."

"Well, as you've read, after…Matthew escaped from the castle, he was the last surviving member of the nobility. That would automatically make him marquess. However, since everyone thought he was dead, they picked someone else. So you _could _say that this fellow's been on the waiting list for…nearly five thousand years."

"But _I'm_ the Marquess of Ostia! The one and only! You can't knock me off the throne just 'cos it's _logical_."

Lucius sauntered over to Hector, a huge grin on his face. He whispered into the marquess' ear. "How _else_ do you suppose you'll get him out of your life? Law says you can't kill him. Once he's marquess, you won't have to worry about what he does…" Lucius glanced toward Skarmandros as he said this.

Hector rolled his eyes. "If you insist. But ONLY if you can get him out of demon form – I don't think the people would take too kindly to a demon ruling over Ostia."

Lucius smiled. "Don't worry. I think I can take care of that."

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you don't want my help, Lucius? This is a matter of national importance!" 

Lucius sighed, taking one last look through his Purge tome. "No, Your Grace, I'll be just fine."

Renault grunted, running one hand through his sky-blue hair. "Well…uh…do you at least want me on the sidelines, you know, in case something goes wrong?"  
Lucius nodded, not looking up. "It would be appreciated."  
Renault sighed. "Thankyou. At least someone here pays attention to me."


	12. Chapter 11: Unexpected Visitors

Damien bounced repeatedly on the satin-sheet bed. He was very excited. X watched him with disdain, and, in another corner of the room, Jo leant against the wall.

Skarmandros took that exact moment to walk into the room. Damien stopped bouncing and turned to look at his friend with a smile, and X did the same, but with the normal look of _get-me-out-of-here_ on his face. Only Jo ran up to the demon and game him a quick hug, raising eyebrows.

"Oh, Skar! I'm so glad everything's all right! When the soldiers took you away, we were all so worried…"

Skarmandros sighed and patted Jo on the back. "That's all right." He looked around the room to see Damien and X there, also. A look of perplexity crossed his face. "What are all you lot doing here, anyway?"

"We all heard about your miraculous escape from the dungeon of doooooooooom!" Damien cried. X rolled his eyes.

"A bunch of messengers from the castle came along and told us about what happened last night, so we decided we'd pop by and visit you. Personally I don't care if you're going to be marquess or not, although the irony is quite amusing."

"That's nice, coming from you."

"Well, we'd better go now," Jo interjected. "No doubt you have important duties to attend to."

Skarmandros grinned. "Me? Not likely."

X produced a nasty smile. "Oh, no, I'm sure _something _will come up."

* * *

Skarmandros walked into the room, the _scratch_ of his claws scraping the marble floor resonating off the walls. 

The room was empty for the most part, excluding Lucius, at the head of the room clutching his Purge tome and a staff and wearing ornate white robes, and Renault, sitting in a chair on the sidelines, watching the demon's every move. Another Purge tome and his purple staff sat upon his lap, balancing precariously.

"Good afternoon," Lucius addressed. "Are you ready to be 'Purged'?"

Skarmandros smirked. "I've been ready since I was sixteen."

* * *

Jo looked up from the floor as a strangely familiar figure entered the room. Jo felt like she had seen him somewhere before, except maybe a bit younger. The man was wearing the blue riding armour befitting Ostians, covered partially by a yellow cloak. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, to match his short-cropped hair, and his face was surprisingly young for the rest of his body, and carefree, as if he had been suddenly lifted of a great burden. His appearance gave him an important air.

"What are you doing in my room?"

Jo was startled when the man spoke – the way he had asked the question was more of curiosity and innocence than anger. His voice was calm and assertive – one that would be good in parliament, Jo thought.

"I'm sorry…I thought this was my friend's room. I was waiting for him to return…sorry…"

Jo got up to leave, but the man raised his hand slightly, as if meaning for her to stay.

"Who do you think I am?"

"What do you mean? I don't understand the question."

"Who do you think I am?" the man repeated.

"Someone…important…a lord…I don't know."

The man laughed, and the very sound of it made the whole room seem a little more cheerful – it was the laugh of someone who had never, until now, felt true happiness.

"What if I told you that you know me…more than you think?"

"Then I would be completely confused, and ask you for your name and what this has to do with your room."

The man smiled. "We are both right. This is your friend's room, and this is my room."

"But I don't even know you."

"You do. Look inside your heart and remember me."

Jo flinched. "I don't know you!"

The man drew back a little. Jo gasped.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to-"

The man sighed. "Good thing I still have this, then. Otherwise you would never have recognised me."

The man took a small ebony box out of his cloak. "Be careful, and don't touch it. You don't want to end up like what I once was…"

Jo's eyes widened as the man opened the box.

Inside laid a golden amulet on a gilded chain stained with blood that had long since dried. The amulet was in the shape of a dragon's head, but inset with emerald eyes that were now dulled. It was clear that the amulet was very old, and had been worn by someone for a good period of his or her life. Someone who had fought many battles, killed many people…

And yet, a small fire glowed in the emerald eyes, fire that left Jo transfixed to the amulet. Who knows how long she would have stayed staring at it had the man not closed the box.

Jo gasped. The amulet seemed so familiar, and yet something in her head wasn't clicking…she needed some sort of hint-

The man smiled, as if reading her mind. "You know, I wore this thing for a long, long time. I'm just glad I'm finally free of it. Damned curse…the Archsage says he'll try and destroy this blasted thing tomorrow…that way, no-one else will ever fall under its demonic spell…"

Jo smiled with tears in her eyes. She ran up to the man and hugged him tight, as if never wanting to let him go.

"Skarmandros…they did it…they saved you…"

He returned Jo's embrace. "You may call me Matthew now, Josephine. Only a cursed man uses a cursed name."

They finally released each other. Matthew smiled, pulling another box, this one much more ornate, out of his cloak.

"And this brings me to my next…duty."

Matthew got down on one knee and opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

"Josephine of Pherae, will you marry me?"

Jo smiled. "Of course I will, Matthew. You know that."

Matthew beamed, and stood gain with a much more serious expression on his face. "Josephine…you know that day in the clearing, when I said I would make you immortal? I…kind of can't do that now."

Jo laughed. "That's all right. As long as we're together…"


	13. Epilogue

So, we finally reach the end of my very first fanfiction, and in true Fire Emblem style, see the future of these characters. I wrote this story at least two years ago, and right now I think the ending is a pile of garbage. I was planning on writing a sequel...but that's it for now. Feel free to comment!

* * *

And so it was that Lord Matthew of Ostia was wed to the Fair Lady Josephine. Shortly after, Matthew was initiated Marquess Ostia, and although Hector was disgusted at first, he soon got over the past and formed a fast friendship with the new marquess. Jo was given the same privileges as Louise of Etruria as Lady of the court. Both being married to marquesses, the two of them meet regularly to discuss political matters, or just to chat.

X disappeared after the initiation ceremony, and no one knows where he went. There have been reported sightings of him around the continent, so it is assumed he has gone back to his travelling days, however he is actively pursued by mercenaries seeking out the famed assassin comrade to the demon who once massacred the Ostian nobility. It has been confirmed that he sends messages to his old friend every once in a while, but the marquess refuses to give out any information, saying that such communications are personal. Although there was a recent case where a certain mercenary with a grudge against Ostia, known only as 'Raven', attempted to sneak into the castle to pilfer the documents, but he was let off with a warning and a good kick in the leg.

After the ceremony Damien revealed his background story to his friends. We already know he was a half-demon, but it was divulged that he had actually, as a _mortal_ half-demon, died at the age of eighteen. Death, feeling sorry for him, brought him back as a wraith to help eat souls (why Damien accepted this bizarre proposal is unknown).

Damien now continues his work as a soul eater and says he wouldn't spend his afterlife doing anything else – it's not like he has much to do anyway.

_Fin_


End file.
